But Caryl would say nothing about that.
“Sit down,” he said, “and tell me what you’ve been doing, and where you’ve been. You’ve never left me so long alone before.”
“Well, I’ve been in the grounds, Caryl.”
“Yes, I saw you go. And I thought it very unkind of you not to take me. But I know why you didn’t,” and he pressed her hand with his little thin fingers. “You wanted to cry, that’s why you wanted to be by yourself. And that’s why you want to go home. You’re not happy, Rhoda. You look so different from what you did at first, before mama came back.”
“It’s nothing to do with mama, Caryl,” said Rhoda quickly.
“Oh no. But you have been crying, though?”
“Perhaps I have. Perhaps I don’t like leaving you, Caryl.”
He sighed, and played with her fingers quietly, and said very little more till his father came into the room.
Sir Robert looked flushed and uneasy; he caught sight of Rhoda at once; and the presence of the lady seemed to make him graver than ever.
“Come here, papa.”